Ode to Black Feathers, a don't starve fanfic

Another poem inspired by Don't Starve….This one, however, is inspired by a Don't Starve fan-comic, Blood Eagles (does that make it fanception?). If it intrigues you, go look up Ecfor on Tumblr or DeviantArt—fair warning, though, it's not for the squeamish.

Anywho, after writing it out, I referred to it as an ode, which prompted me to actually look up odes to see if I had written it in the appropriate format. As it turns out, so long as the poem is written "in praise of" something, it can be written in any way, even free verse. So this is a most irregular ode….The tempo is based on the Lost Christmas Eve album by the Trans-Siberian Orchestra, by the way.

Feathers of black

Break the back

Of a gentleman falling to his doom.

His descent slacks,

His sanity lacks

The energy to process the change.

The mad puppet master

Must work faster

To save face in this unneeded moment.

He will never admit

That he needs…that git…

In order to escape that place.

He stands and gloats,

The words becoming rote,

Said to appease those that pull the strings.

But the scientist

In a mad, mad twist

Turns the tables on the man on the throne.

Stunned at what he's done,

Unable to run,

He falls to his knees on the grass.

The scientist frayed,

The puppeteer's death delayed,

The twain works out an arrangement.

To gain five things

And cut the strings

Of those who rig that strange world.

A deal made with black feathers,

Although each knows the other

Is their mortal enemy through and through.

But keep your enemies closer

Through inclement weathers

And perchance you'll make it out alive.

The scientist and puppeteer,

That freedom that they hold so dear,

Is currently out of reach.

But if they work together,

Make use of black feathers,

Then perhaps they might just have a chance.